Getting it Back
by Katria Bloom
Summary: H/D Slash. In which Draco decides.


_This was inspired by a scene from a production called _Almost, Maine_ that I worked on back in February. I thought it screamed to be Potter-ized. _

"What is this?" Harry asked as Draco shoved a box into his arms.

"The stuff you had in my apartment," Draco replied matter-of-factly. "There is more in my car. _You_ can get it or I can get it for you."

"But I had it there for a reason," Harry said, looking from the box to Draco's blank face. He refused to meet his gaze.

Draco's lips thinned before he ground out, "I've been thinking and I've decided. We're through. So I thought it was only fair that I bring you your things and you give me mine."

Harry frowned. "Wait, you _decided_…" but Draco was gone, grabbing more boxes from his car. He brushed past Harry and into his house, laying the rest of the boxes on the coffee table before dropping down on the couch.

"Well, get my things," Draco commanded, his eyes wide. "I don't have all day. It's only fair that you give me my things back. Then again, the new space might help with new men."

"New men? There are new men?" Harry choked out, cradling his head in his hands.

"No," Draco snapped. "Not yet, but I suspect there will be." He paused to collect himself, taking a deep breath. "In any case, when I go away, I'll need my things."

Harry sank down in his favourite armchair, his elbows on his knees. "Where are you going?" he asked weakly.

"I just have to get away for a while. There are all sorts of things I want to get away from." Draco refused to look at Harry, and his eyes were glistening dangerously.

"What is there to get away from?" Harry asked, his gaze searching Draco's face. "What is so horrible that you have to get away?"

Draco picked at his trousers for a moment before saying, "You. I want to get away from you, Harry."

"Me?" Harry asked, his voice cracking a bit. "Why do you want to get away from me? I haven't even done anything!"

Draco stood, his hands landing on his hips. "That's exactly the point! Now go get my things. Now."

Harry simply slumped his shoulders and left the room. Draco stood very still until Harry disappeared into his bedroom. He then allowed his arms to fall to his sides before raising a hand to nervously card through his hair, something he hadn't done before he began spending more time with Harry. Draco then realized he was crying and he was finding it hard to breathe. He could hear Harry approaching and he took the time to compose himself.

"Here, you left these here the last time you came," Harry said, holding out a large gold key on a matching keychain bearing an intricately carved 'H'.

"What is that?" Draco whispered furiously, not reaching out to take it.

Harry sighed as he tightened his grip on the keychain. "It's your key to my house. I thought it was an accident on your part, but maybe you left it on purpose."

"That…" Draco started, finally looking right at Harry. "There is no way that is all I have at your house. You must have lost my things or something, because I spent as much time here as I did at my flat. This isn't the time to be joking with me, Harry. Get me my things."

"You haven't left as much as a toothbrush at my house, Draco," Harry sighed, his shoulders hunched and his face down-turned. "Not in the five years we have been together. I…I don't know what else to say to you."

"Say what you're supposed to say!" Draco yelled, stretching out his arms. They both stood still for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. Finally Draco seemed to deflate, his arms falling limply to his sides. "Everyone said your silence was all I needed to hear."

"Everyone who?" Harry asked, taking a step toward Draco. "Who told you that?"

Draco backed away a step. "Pansy. She said she heard you were tired of me and asked if I had noticed anything different. When I said no she just said 'There's always an ounce of truth in every rumour, you know', and just grinned at me."

Harry scrubbed his face furiously. "How many times do I have to tell you not to listen to Pansy? She hates me, Draco! She's trying to get you to break up with me because she's in love with you. She's been trying for years!"

"Maybe she's right in not liking you," Draco countered softly. "If you didn't want to stay with me you should have just told me." Harry just shrugged, his entire posture signalling his defeat. "Is…" Draco stopped, his eyes on the dangling charm of the keychain. "Is that really all I have here? That's _all_ I invested, something you gave to me in the first place? That's…impossible. There has to be something…anything…not even a shirt?"

"You always wore mine," Harry toned flatly before retreating a few steps, laying the key down on a side table on top of a severely tattered copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_. "Just…maybe it's best if you take your key and leave. Do with it what you will; just…I don't have a use for it anymore. I'll…I'll see you later." He paused, burrowing his hands into his pockets. "Or maybe not. In any case…have a good life. Thanks for…giving me all you gave me."

Draco's heart tightened. "I did give you things, Harry. I did! Don't make me feel guilty just because…I told you I loved you, which means more than all the stuff you've left at my flat. That's all I wanted from you, and you can't tell me that."

"You must know that I love you," Harry sighed. "The words don't mean anything; it's the feelings and the actions that matter. I've done everything in my power to show you how much I love you."

"No you haven't!" Draco screamed, his voice cracking. "You haven't, Harry! You've done everything you can to avoid having to say it! You've just been appeasing me to get me to shut up!"

Harry shook his head, his eyes misty. His voice was shaky when he spoke. "It's obvious that there is nothing I can say to change your mind. I'm sorry." He turned, disappearing down the hallway, leaving Draco alone.

He stood there, the silence pressing down on his ears. He was crying, looking everywhere but at Harry's things. His gaze landed on the glimmer of gold on the end table. His keys.

"What is this?" Draco called as he approached the table where Harry had laid the keys down before leaving. It was all gold, save for a hint of delicate silver on the chain with the key, a hint of silver that had never been there before.

"Harry, what is this? Is this some kind of game, because I don't think its fun. Harry, what the _hell_ is this?"

He reached out for the keychain, noticing that it was a small right of what appeared to be ivy leaves moulded out of delicate silver. He touched it gently, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

"It's a ring," Harry's voice sounded from behind him. "I thought it would be romantic, giving you back your keys and you discovering it. It's yours now, you can keep it, give it away…I don't have any use for it anymore."

Draco furiously wiped away his tears. "You…you got me a ring?"

Harry circled the couch, taking the keys from Draco's hands and slipping the ring off the chain and placing it on Draco's knee. "I thought it was time. Obviously I was a bit late."

"What sort of ring is this?" Draco whispered, his eyes on the ring. "Is this…just a _ring_, or is it…"

Harry sat down beside him, wrapping an arm around Draco's waist. "What do you think?" He took Draco's left hand into his. "Would…I want to marry you. I want you to marry me. I want to help you move stuff to my house, or to your flat, of to a new house, _our _house. I don't want you to date someone else. I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?"

Draco couldn't talk, he simply nodded. Harry slipped the ring onto Draco's finger before bringing their entwined hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the rapidly-warming silver band. He leaned against Harry, trying to stop crying. After a long moment, Draco whispered, "I'll move here, I don't want to carry your things back to my flat." Harry laughed weakly. "I love you," Draco whispered, drawing Harry against him.

"I love you too," Harry replied in a gentle tone. Silence fell, with Draco looking at the ring on his finger and Harry looking at the brimming boxes of his things.

* * *


End file.
